


five ravens' feathers, ten nightshade berries, a silver bangle

by AnonymousPuzzler



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, Keetz Theory, M/M, Post-Canon, just having tea with your undead boyfriend's goddess mom-boss, some discussion of death but nothing especially graphic, spoilers through ep1 of Story and Song, with a side of Vague Kravitz Backstory Headcanons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-09 00:41:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11658036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonymousPuzzler/pseuds/AnonymousPuzzler
Summary: Taako has a very important question for the Raven Queen.





	five ravens' feathers, ten nightshade berries, a silver bangle

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how I ended up writing this whole thing in one go but I really wish I could channel this kind of energy into the next chapter of the Kravitz fic. I hope you enjoy this anyway. The Raven Queen is really hard to write good thing I have her in like half my fics

He’d be gone just a few days at most, he’d promised them. Just a quick trip to the good marketplace a few towns over, get some top-notch ingredients - _I hear they’ve got the best strawberries on Faerun,_ he’d teased, sing-song, when Kravitz’s brow had started to furrow with suspicion. There’d been only a few more hasty reassurances (swearing he’d get Lup some new spices; trying to play off like he wasn’t sure he’d bring back anything for Angus when it was obvious he would; a long, lingering kiss with Kravitz, the reaper murmuring “be safe, see you soon” against the elf’s mouth) before he departed, now more than half a day’s walk into his trip.

He felt a little bad, shockingly enough. It wasn’t even like he was lying, _technically_. He really _was_ going to drop by the market and come home loaded up with some kickass supplies, the best of the best. But… yes, it _was_ going to be a detour on his way back, rather than his true destination. He hadn’t been entirely honest in that regard.

Whatever. Whatever! He wasn’t doing anything _shady_ , for fuck’s sake. He just. He didn’t want anyone to worry needlessly, that’s all.

And, well. He didn’t want Kravitz to ask him _why_ he was going where he was, because it would… kind of defeat the purpose of his visit.

A touch of paranoia clawing at the back of his skull, he pauses to rummage through his bag for the third time that day, making _absolutely_ sure he has all the supplies. Inside are exactly five ravens’ feathers, a satchel of ten nightshade berries, and a silver bangle decorated with innumerous glass-bead charms.

Brushing his fingers over the bag of nightshade berries makes his skin momentarily crawl, his stomach lurch. _Not your fault,_ he reminds himself yet again, tucking the supplies back into his bag and continuing on.

Can’t be far now.

Sure enough, it’s not a half-hour later when the scenery starts to change, open fields and dirt paths giving way to ancient cobblestone and gnarled trees, the road lined with rusted-iron lampposts (spelled to light at nightfall, he surmises) and the occasional worn statue of a raven perched on a pedestal. Those would be unsettling enough on their own, glass-eyed with the stone cracked and crumbling with age, but then he catches the real deal perched in trees as he goes further, seeming to watch his every move.

He’s almost starting to regret this.

Whatever. _Whatever._ Fuck it. Taako ain’t scared of a bunch of stupid birds. And this is important, anyways.

This is _really_ important.

He’s not sure what he expected a temple of the Raven Queen to look like - spooky, probably, and he’s right on the money there. Her followers are few and far between in the mortal realm, so structures dedicated to her worship are sparse, rarely-visited and not particularly well-maintained. This was the closest one he’d been able to find (and boy, had it been a fuckin’ trip trying to dig up _that_ kinda info), and it looks spectacularly abandoned, moss and vines growing rampantly over the dark stone, the stained-glass windows dingy and dull. Frankly, it strikes him as a small miracle that it hadn’t collapsed outright, or been taken over by hermits or rowdy teenagers.

Then again, maybe it wasn’t that surprising no one was squatting here. You couldn’t _pay_ him to go in there under normal circumstances, not with the stained-glass murals of Grim Reapers and the Goddess of Death, or the gnarled vines clutching at the walls like skeletal limbs, or the billion _fucking_ ravens sitting in the trees around the entrance, who were _definitely_ watching him now.

He takes a deep breath, takes another glance into the bag at his hip. Five ravens’ feathers, ten nightshade berries, and a silver bangle.

He closes the bag, steels himself, and forces the front door open, resolutely deciding to ignore the way the ravens start cawing dissonantly as he does so.

The inside isn’t too much better than the outside - not as overgrown, at least, but filled with dust and cobwebs, and inexplicably a good five degrees colder than outside. (It reminds him of Kravitz, the way he seems to perpetually be ever-so-slightly colder than the room around him, and that thought is equal parts reassuring and a touch concerning.) He walks in slowly, cautiously, ears swiveling and eyes trained on every shadowy corner. Thank _fuck_ for darkvision, because the only light in the temple is the rapidly-waning daylight through the dingy stained-glass windows, and even that seems to be interrupted every few seconds as a raven darts by outside, sending a shadow ghosting across the floor.

_Motherfucker._ He must love Kravitz a hell of a lot, because his _Taako’s good out here_ instincts are in fuckin’ overdrive, and yet here he is, still creeping towards the dais on the far side of the room.

There’s a shrine there, coated in dust but otherwise in surprisingly good shape - he guesses that’s probably the only thing here that the few worshippers really bother to maintain. A pedestal covered in dark, silky drapery, on top of which are four intricately-designed candlesticks holding four deep-purple candles (previously burned, but not fully melted down just yet), a silver statuette that he assumes depicts the Queen herself, and a simple obsidian slab.

He stares up at the stained-glass mural overlooking the dais, swallows hard, and sets his bag down next to the shrine. Okay. Okay, here he goes. You know what to do, Taako. You studied this whole fuckin’ ritual like crazy. You’ve got this.

( _Fuck,_ he _hopes_ he’s got this.)

He starts with the candles, using prestidigitation to cast a flame on his fingertips and light them one by one, clockwise from the left. They smell ever-so-slightly of lavender, he realizes, the scent wafting into the air from the lit wicks. It’s almost reassuring. He wonders if that was intentional, a last measure of calm for the more nervous of the Queen’s followers.

Next is the part he’s been dreading, and he fails to stop his hands from trembling ever-so-slightly as he removes the sack of nightshade berries from his bag. _Not your fault, not your fault,_ he repeats to himself as he pours them onto the obsidian slab, taking each one and pressing down, shaking fingers drawing the runes he’d memorized. Use ten nightshade berries exactly, all the books he’d found had specified. (He wonders how many it had taken to kill Glamour Springs. No, _no,_ it was arsenic, it was _arsenic,_ it _wasn’t your fault._ )

When he finishes the last rune, he draws his hand away with a start like he’d been touching a hot stove. All right. They look right. The lines are a little shaky, what with him shivering like he’d been, but hopefully that won’t fuck up the ritual too badly.

Next is the ravens’ feathers, stealthily pilfered from Kravitz’s jacket while he slept. This part is easy, especially compared to the nightshade; he’s seen the reaper do this part dozens of times. He carefully arranges the five feathers on the slab, quill-to-tip, letting them form more or less a perfect circle. (Well, at least as close as he can get with only five feathers. He’s not sure why the texts always specified five, but he wasn’t about to experiment. Not now. This was too important for him to risk screwing it up.)

Finally, the bangle. This part was an offering to the Queen, the books had explained, an exchange for her time and good graces. Jewelry was most often successful, it claimed, and while something of high monetary value was appreciated, it was more important that it simply be appealing to the eyes. Something glimmering and glittery; silver was particularly recommended. This bangle, Taako thought, was perfect, shimmering silver with an abundance of little glass-bead charms, glinting in the low light as they dangled. He places that, carefully, in the very center of the circle of feathers, before sitting back on his heels in front of the shrine.

Okay. Okay, it’s go time.

“Hey,” he begins, and he bites his lip, because _fuck_ he’s not entirely sure you should be starting a conversation with a goddess with a casual _hey._ He takes a second to smooth out his skirt, readjust himself; he’s glad he at least had the forethought to dress decently, a slightly frilly knee-length skirt and simple button-up blouse and one of his better cloaks, opting for more muted colors than his usual bright, warm attire. (Frankly, the neon pinks and canary yellows he usually wore would look outright ridiculous in this joint.) “Um. Hello, uh. Your, um. Your Deathliness? No, no, that’s dumb, um. Raven Queen. I, uh - I know you’re probably a _little_ surprised to hear from me, ‘specially from uh, this particular location, and without Krav around, but, um- I… shit, what’d that dumb book say to…? ‘I humbly provide you this offering, in hopes of the briefest of audiences wi-’”

Before he can go any further, he hears the door slam open, a roaring wind, a cacophony of ravens cawing, and the whole room seems to twist away from him as his vision goes dark.

  


* * *

  


He’s not out of it for long, he thinks - it seems to be only a few seconds before he’s blinking, letting the world come back into focus. Everything’s still a little blurry, like looking through a window that’s been fogged-over, and he’s the slightest bit dizzy, but other than that, things seem fine. He _is_ standing now, though, which is odd - he’d been kneeling in front of the shrine before.

Come to think of it, he doesn’t see the shrine, either.

He blinks again, rubs at his eyes with the heels of his hands. The room still looks the slightest bit fuzzy, but it’s clearly very different than where he just was. The shrine is definitely gone, the whole space is bigger, and it’s much better-lit, the four candles replaced with multiple sconces of them and the dimming light behind dull stained-glass windows replaced with a brighter, almost ethereal glow through much cleaner ones. It’s also even chillier than before, somehow, though _cold_ doesn’t feel like the right word to describe it - the air somehow transcends temperature, in a way.

Inexplicably, he finds himself bringing two fingers to the side of his neck, pressing in and feeling for a pulse. He finds one, obviously. Why the fuck wouldn’t he have a pulse?

...unless.

Oh. Oh, no. Yeah, he recognizes where he is now.

He’s in the Astral plane.

_“Fuck,”_ he hisses, just as an icy breeze catches the back of his neck, and he whirls around and suddenly he’s face-to-face with _her._

He gets the distinct impression that living beings aren’t intended to look directly at the Raven Queen, because his head’s got that itchy feeling - the one he gets with Kravitz, watching his flesh-face dissipate and reappear, trying to find an explanation for something that simply shouldn’t be able to happen - but times a fuckin’ million. At first glance, she looks vaguely humanoid (albeit towering far beyond anyone on Faerun), dark and slim under an elaborate curtain of gowns and veils, jewels and beads and bangles seeming to dangle from every extremity. Then he thinks he sees a beak, and feathers, and wings, and glassy eyes, and suddenly she’s a giant raven, but moving and grinning in ways that birds just aren’t capable and _fuck_ his head hurts. He elects to simply not look too close, not think too hard, before his skull outright caves in trying to process this.

She tilts her head, ruffles her feathers, smiles down at him. _“Taako,”_ she says by way of greeting, tone unreadable but not seeming particularly hostile.

“Sup,” he replies simply. He’s absolutely certain it’s not the right tone for communing with the Goddess of Death, but he’s too rattled to think of anything more proper right now.

She chuckles once, seeming amused rather than offended, and gestures to the side with one - wing? hand? “Have a seat.”

He follows her movement, and sure enough, there’s a table and two chairs set up, elegant tablecloth and tea set and all. When the fuck did _that_ get there? Nevertheless, he finds himself walking over and flopping down in one of the chairs automatically, glancing dumbly around the room. Might as well just go with it, right? He doesn’t know how to get back to the Material plane even if he refused. He could try to Blink, he supposes, but he’s not entirely certain his magic will work right here, and he does _not_ want to be stuck here with a _deity of Death_ after clearly trying and failing to escape.

He feels another chill breeze, less intense this time, and glances back to see the Raven Queen sitting across the table, pouring them each a cup of tea. She’s closer to a humanoid size now, though still towering over him - upwards of seven feet, he guesses, probably dwarfing even the likes of Magnus or Killian. There’s a gentle cacophony of her bangles against each other when she sets the teapot down, and when he glances at her - hand? wing? - he notices she’s wearing the one he’d left on the shrine.

Guess she liked it, then. Point for Taako.

She sets his teacup and saucer down in front of him, moving to idly stir her own, and he finds himself just staring down at it for a long moment. His garbage brain flicks back to the nightshade berries, and he feels his stomach turn. “This, uh… this ain’t, like, a fantasy Persephone situation, is it? You know, uh, you eat somethin’ and then you gotta stay in the realm of the fairies or whatever…”

The Raven Queen chuckles, and her jewelry seems to jingle cheerfully along. “No, no, nothing of the sort. You can help yourself. Though you’re under no obligation to eat or drink anything you don’t want to, of course.”

He spends another long moment staring down at the teacup, quietly debating, before he settles for at least holding it. He’d half-expected the tea to be icy cold, but the china is actually warm in his hands, and it does wonders to ground him. “Thanks.”

She simply raises her cup in reply, then takes a long, dainty sip. (He tries _very_ hard not to focus on figuring out whether she has a mouth or a beak while doing so.) “So. Taako. You came here today to speak with me about something?”

Oh, boy, getting right into it. “I, uh, yeah. Yeah, I did. I mean, duh, guess that’s pretty, uh- pretty obvious, right?”

“And you went to all the trouble of coming to one of my temples, too. Ritual and all.” She hums, then adds, “a little curious, seeing as you could have easily just asked Kravitz for help contacting me.”

A nervous laugh bubbles up from behind his lips, and he rests the teacup on the table before he risks dropping it all over his nice skirt. “Yeah, well, uh, it’s kinda- you see- this is, uh, this is kind of _about_ Kravitz, in a way, so it woulda been kind of weird to ask him to make the call-”

There’s a sudden, loud _clink_ as she sets down her teacup abruptly, and Taako swears the temperature in the room dramatically drops. “Is something wrong?” She asks, voice quiet, an edge to it, glinting eyes seeming to bore a hole in the elf before her.

_Shit._ “Noooooo nonono no _no,_ no! Nothin’ wrong, nothin’ wrong at all! It’s fine! Better than fine, even!” And she visibly relaxes, gaze softening, the room growing slightly less freezing, lifting the panic from Taako’s chest. “I, um… it’s, uh, that’s- it’s _because_ things are going so well that I’m here, actually.”

There’s a lengthy pause, and he peeks up out of the corner of his eye, seeing her fold her hands on the table in front of her and gaze down with curiosity. “Don’t leave me in suspense, then, dear,” she says, the slightest bit of a smile in her tone.

He stares down at his lap, hands tensing ever-so-slightly around the fine china cup. “Hoo, boy. Well. _Well,_ I, uh. Hell of a thing to ask, let me tell you, like I don’t even know if this is the right, like, _procedure_ for this because it’s just-”

_“Taako.”_ Her voice is half-impatient, half-good-naturedly teasing.

He inhales sharply through his nose, and then, before he can let nerves stop him again, blurts out, “I want to marry Kravitz.”

There’s a long, deafening silence, and oh boy, oh _jeez_ , hachi fuckin’ _machi_ he’s said it now. He’s said it, the words are out there, for what he’s pretty sure is the first time since he’d had the thought at all. _Gods,_ it’d taken him what felt like an eternity to so much as come to terms with the fact that he loved Kravitz, and even longer to tell the reaper as such explicitly. That he was even _considering_ marriage, even idly, was a step he’d never expected to take with _anyone._ And yet, here he was, so consumed by the thought of making Kravitz his _husband_ that he was sitting down for tea with the _Goddess of Death,_ more or less asking for her blessing.

(Lup was going to lose her fucking _mind_ when she found out. _Fuck._ )

The quiet stretches on for an agonizingly long time. Then, in a voice more akin to a proud mother than an actual _deity,_ he hears the Raven Queen croon, “oh, _Taako._ ”

He flings his hands up defensively, feeling a hot blush creep across his face straight down to the very tips of his ears. “Nothing’s- nothing’s _happening_ yet, _fuck!_ Like, _jeez,_ I haven’t even, like, _implied_ to Kravitz that I might _ask,_ let alone actually- actually fuckin’ gotten him on board with this whole deal. Like, he might not even be into it-”

“He’ll say yes,” the Queen replies simply. Taako is rendered momentarily speechless, and then the thought of Kravitz _agreeing to marry him_ leaves him turning his gaze to the floor, feebly trying to restrain a giddy grin from crossing his face. (He doesn’t do a very good job at stopping it. _Fuck._ )

“Even- even if he does. Which he might not,” he adds, more for his own benefit than the Raven Queen’s, so used to tempering his expectations in an effort not to be disappointed. “I don’t… fuck, I don’t even know how it’s going to _work?_ Like, shit, he’s dead, I’m _not,_ technically I _have_ been dead a good dozen or so times and I gallivant around with no less than two known liches…”

“It’s an unusual situation, to say the least, yes,” the Queen agrees, somewhat curtly. “Par for the course with you and your associates, it seems. Goodness knows we’ve more or less had to make a whole new set of rules just for your lot.”

He at least has the decency to give a sheepish grin at that. To say it had been a mess working things out with Kravitz and the Raven Queen after the Hunger’s attack, well… that would be an understatement. Between the seven of them their death bounties numbered in the hundreds, and that was to say nothing of Lup and Barry’s lichdom, their dabbles in necromantic magic, and the numerous backup bodies Barry had produced for inhabitation over the years, plus the one for Lup after Taako finally broke her out of magic-umbrella-prison. Pretty much the only reason they weren’t all locked up in the Eternal Stockade was because, having come from a completely different planar system, they were _technically_ outside of the jurisdiction of this system’s Astral plane. (And having Kravitz on his side probably didn’t hurt, Taako muses.)

When he glances back up, the Queen is taking another long sip of her tea, setting it down with a thoughtful look. “We’ve certainly never had a reaper get married before,” she observes, sounding fond. “Let alone to someone still living. But I can’t see how it could hurt, particularly in Kravitz’s case. Died so young, been a reaper for so long, bending the rules in little ways all the while…”

A snort of laughter escapes Taako before he can stop it. “Sorry, _Kravitz? Bending rules?_ Like, _our_ Kravitz?” He chortles, incredulous, drawing his hands around his teacup again, though still not sipping it. “The same dude so straight-laced he thought our first date was a _business meeting?_ ”

The Queen crows in reply, beads jingling as she throws her head back. “Yes, I suppose that’s true,” she chuckles, settling after a moment. “But you’d be surprised. His very role as a reaper was something of an exception.”

“ _Do_ tell.” He almost takes a sip of tea out of pure habit, settling in for gossip, but stops himself at the last moment. He’s sure it’s fine, that nothing’s going to happen to him if he drinks it, but paranoia can be a powerful thing. (He doesn’t want to admit that he keeps thinking about the nightshade berries.)

She blinks down at him, and suddenly her expression is… more somber, more reserved, something in her eyes that Taako can’t quite place, but that makes his face fall ever-so-slightly. “...has Kravitz ever told you how he died?” She finally asks, hesitant.

There’s a long moment before the answer, the silence almost palpable. “...I don’t think he remembers,” he finally confesses, finding himself averting his gaze once more. “...I… he knows he was young. He thinks he was sick.” Another pause, then, quieter, “he remembers it hurting.”

The silence returns with a vengeance, longer this time, seeming to leave a chill in the air that makes Taako’s skin prickle. Then, finally, he hears the Queen exhale heavily, and when he looks up there’s a tiredness in her eyes, just the slightest hint of regret. “It was so long ago,” she murmurs. “And he was in such pain when he passed. I suppose it’s not surprising how much of his memory has faded.”

He bites his lip, stares at his hands around the china cup. He’d always wondered about Kravitz’s fuzzy memories, so much of his mortal life forgotten. Wondered if it simply happened to all souls, if they simply forgot more as time went by, or if… something was blocking the memories, either externally or internally. (An instinctively-mistrustful part of him half-suspected the Raven Queen herself had stolen them, though he’d never propose such a thing aloud to Kravitz. Now, standing before her and seeing how she responds to his lack of memory, he gets more of an impression that it’s a mystery to her as well.)

Another long moment, and then Taako dares another glimpse up at the Goddess, letting himself speak before he can swallow back the burning question on his lips. “How… how _did_ Kravitz die…?”

She’s staring off somewhere past him, expression near-impossible to read - if he had to hazard a guess, he’d say she was wondering if it was worth telling him, if Kravitz would take offense to his mortal life becoming some kind of gossip. “...he was very ill,” she finally begins, still not meeting the elf’s gaze. “Since he was very young, though it became truly debilitating in his adulthood. By the time it left him housebound, it seems, he had fully accepted he was going to die before he was even thirty.” She closes her eyes a moment, inhales, then continues, “his family did not come to terms with it so easily. On the last evening of his life, they carried his body to the home of a necromantic order, and attempted to cast a spell that would bind his soul to his body.”

Taako’s hands are trembling around the teacup now. He barely notices.

“...the spell worked, but only barely,” the Queen murmurs, and there is such _regret_ in her eyes. “He died there, on a slab in a basement of necromancers, the spell trapping his spirit in his own corpse as he struggled to pass on.” There’s a long, long pause before she finishes, softly, “I had to carve his soul out of the body myself. He was in _agony._ ”

The tea sloshes out of the cup onto his shuddering hand, and he flinches at the burn, retracting his hand with a gasp. How was the tea still boiling hot like that?

The Goddess still doesn’t meet his eyes. “...under the strictest letter of the law, Kravitz should have gone to the Eternal Stockade,” she explains further. “He did not choose to evade the passing of his soul, nor did he actively participate in the necromancy that allowed him to do so. But it had happened all the same. To keep him from being imprisoned for what I felt was a crime he did not truly commit, I offered him a place in my retinue as an alternative. He accepted without hesitation. I… as you said, he truly seems not to remember the circumstances of his death. Even then, the details seemed to evade him.” A pause, then, “it’s something of a blessing, I suppose. He doesn’t remember the necromancers that caused him such agony. He doesn’t recall the family that stole away his peaceful passing. He doesn’t… he never suspected that they might… that they could have been among his bounties one day.”

“ _...fuck,_ ” is the only thing he can bring himself to say, eyes on his lap. Another deafening moment of silence passes, and then, finally, he hears himself ask, “Has he… _has_ he brought any of them in…?”

He glances back up at the Raven Queen, and she’s finally turned her gaze back on him, expression still unreadable but… different, now. _Grateful,_ maybe? “His family disappeared from our radar for many years - somewhere we couldn’t quite _reach,_ somehow - before being dispatched without need for a reaper,” she answers vaguely. “The other necromancers had been brought in by other reapers long before, without need for Kravitz to step in.”

Taako blinks once, processing this, before breathing a sigh of relief. “...Good. Good. So, uh, so nothing to worry about there, I guess.”

“Not anymore.” And she’s smiling again, and he’s not sure _why,_ but he has a feeling that’s a conversation for another day.

He places his hands on the edge of the table now, running a long fingernail along his palm, biting his lip as he chooses his next words carefully. “So, that’s, uh…” Glancing up with a sly grin, he titters, “Long story short, we’re, uh, I’ve got approval, then? You know, for the whole marriage thing? Straight from the ol’ god-boss?”

She laughs, low and musical, and brings her - hands? wings? fuck, and just when he thought he was getting used to it - back to her own teacup. “Yes. Wholeheartedly and unequivocally, the two of you have my approval and support.” A pause, then, seriously, “On one condition.”

_Hoo boy._ “Name it,” he says, instead of trying to negotiate like he should, like he _normally_ would, because deep down he already knows he’s going to do whatever it fuckin’ takes to marry Kravitz.

The Raven Queen smiles wide, a teasing look in her eyes. “See, the thing is, you’ve seen the temples of my followers. Not exactly a place suited to weddings. Frankly, I don’t think my acolytes even have anything prepared for officiating. So, as an alternative, I would much appreciate if you two would host your nuptials in one of Istus’ temples. Her followers are much better suited to overseeing marriages, and if you marry under Istus’ watch, I’ll still get _all_ the juicy details.”

She winks on that last bit, and Taako can’t help but hoot with laughter in response. “Yeah, yeah, you know what, sure! I can get down with that, yeah. Know just the place, in fact,” he grins, because he does, and it’s probably going to be a weird locale for a wedding but he can get down with that. He wonders if Ren will let him rent out the Davy Lamp for the reception? (Who is he fuckin’ kidding, of course she will. He’s _Taako._ You know, from TV?)

The Goddess beams, and sets her empty cup back down on the table, standing up to her full, towering height. “Then I think we’re all set, Taako Taaco. I expect you to take good care of him, you understand?”

He grins back, setting his untouched tea down and standing up himself. “You know it,” he winks, and he’s being flippant but he means it, with all his heart, in a way he never expected to be able to. He loves Kravitz, loves him with every last fiber of his being, wants to care for him and provide for him in every way he might possibly want or need. And, at this moment, he wants to be married to him more than he feels he’s ever wanted anything.

The Queen seems to catch the undertone of honesty, of love, of devotion in his words, because she smiles down at him with a warmth he never would have expected to see on the Goddess of Death. Then she leans forward, brushes his hair back from his face and presses a quick, light peck (ha, bird joke) to his forehead, and the room goes fuzzy again and he’s back in darkness.

  


* * *

  


Once again, he’s back to awareness in what feels like seconds, only now the world is crystal-clear and he’s kneeling before the shrine in the dingy temple once more. He’s still dizzy, though, and when he glances around the room, he can see the light of sunrise coming in through the open doors and grimy stained-glass windows.

So he’s basically been here straight through the night, then. Holy _fuck._

Stretching and gathering his senses, he glances back at the shrine before him. The candles have burned out, and the nightshade berry runes have dried on the obsidian slab, but the feathers are still there in a perfect circle. And sitting in that circle, in place of the silver bangle, is the china cup, filled with tea that sends curls of steam drifting upwards in the soft light.

He blinks, glances around the temple with his ears cocked back, the slightest edge of suspicion engulfing him. Then he stares back at the teacup and finally thinks, _fuck it,_ picking it up and taking a long sip. It’s still hot, and tastes mildly floral and pleasantly sweet, and doesn’t appear to drag him to hell when he drinks it. Fuckin’ nice.

He sits back on the steps to the dais, idly sipping at his tea, thinks about the man he will soon ask to be his husband, thinks about the certainty with which the Queen had told him _he’ll say yes,_ and he smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> two weeks later Kravitz finds the teacup and is like "oh Taako this is nice where did you get this?" and Taako fucking Dies
> 
> as always I'm AnonymousPuzzler on Tumblr if you ever want to say hi!! I'm also now on twitter @BigPuzz so you can see me screaming into the void there too if you're into that kind of thing


End file.
